Dawn Of The Artifacts 1 - Dusk
by Cypher-SB
Summary: Many artifacts from previous ages can be found, many with purposes unknown and confusing enchantments, but most of incredible value nonetheless. Some, however, are coveted by those who are movers and shakers of the sixth world, and fewer still know what they are truly capable of. Based on the same titled mission book written by Jennifer Harding.
1. Chapter 1

Meet Ms. Johnson (posted 2014/11/07)

Rain poured outside, tinting everything brown and adding an acrid taste to the air.

There was more in his vision than just acid rain. A news feed from KSAF was dominated by the chances of freezing rain and sleet with this storm. Certainly was sounding like a good day to stay indoors.

Not that there was much of an indoors for Cyclops. Not many places around Seattle catered well to someone of his size.

"Fūjin-sama." came a small voice.

"«In here.»" Cyclops said, pushing aside an ARO document he had been reading.

Her name was Haruko, and from how it was written in Japanese it meant 'Spring Child.' It was fitting since her sixteenth birthday was coming up in two months. She was a petite human, looking closer to someone who was thirteen, almost a meter short of Cyclops's hulking two and a half meter height, with long dark hair and dark eyes.

Despite the February chill, Haruko wore an oversized shirt, walking softly on bare feet as she entered the room. The shirt itself was his, from the concert of a short lived troll band that did not make it far in the music scene. Haruko had rolled it up and tied it off to leave most of her slender legs exposed. And even though she did not understand a word of English she loved the thrashing death metal style of music.

Like a small child climbing into her father's lap, Haruko climbed into the extra large chair with Cyclops. She gave him a light kiss on the cheek before settling down at his side.

Things were a little more complicated than it seemed. It had been a few weeks since the two had met when the team Cyclops was working with had ended up crossing paths with a Yakuza slave trader as he was bringing some girls in through a Tacoma dockyard. A precision shot of one of his spells had sent a Yakuza foot soldier flying, and Haruko immediately thought he was a Japanese wind demon. Being tall even for a fomori, with black hair and a pair of dark curling horns, did not help much to dispel this image.

But Haruko had latched onto him in more ways than one, and while the other girls had separated and moved on to either find a new life in Seattle or go back to their families, Haruko had stuck with Cyclops. He had found out later that she had no family, and no SIN.

"«Am I bothering you?»" she asked.

Cyclops rubbed her back. Despite being several years younger she was far from a bother. The first few days were rough, but she managed to settle into a routine around his small place that more than made up for her living there.

"«You are no bother.»" Cyclops told her.

When it seemed that Haruko was settling down to relax, Cyclops brought the news ARO back up. Gone was the weather report, though the ticker at the bottom still continued to warn about travel with freezing rain. Dominating the image was a new article on a recent tempo bust, a small one compared to some of the recent articles, but because of a different method of trying to ship the drug in baked goods.

The commlink in his pocket buzzed as a new ARO appeared with an incoming call. Bringing this new ARO forward with a mental click he checked the ID before answering.

"Hey, I got a special request from a Ms. Johnson." said Joss, a fixer Cyclops knew. "Seems she has need for a team to accompany her on a trip overseas."

"Overseas?" Cyclops silently asked. Haruko already knew quite well the kind of work he did, but he did not want to disturb her with open talk about the work he did. She would not understand the conversation at all, but had figured quite quickly what it meant when he talked to himself.

"Yeah, someplace tropical, she says. If you're interested, she wants you to meet tonight, at the Club 77 in Renton. She's got a room reserved for five o'clock. Here's the address, and a code to broadcast when you get there."

Cyclops's commlink received a new file, and when he checked it he saw the address for Club 77 and an attachment to add to his commlink's broadcast code.

"Let me know if you're not interested, because I might take the damn offer myself." Joss said.

"We both know you're not gonna take this one." Cyclops replied. "But did you forget that I've got that kid with me?"

"And it could be a day trip as far as I know." Joss countered, "I think she's old enough to be able to take care of herself."

"And what kind of place is the Club 77?"

"Well, super high class. The kind of high class where dinner can run thousands of nuyen."

"So I gotta break out my best suit."

"If you even want to get past the door, hell yeah." Joss told him, "But don't worry 'bout the staff. The place is totally meta friendly, even if some of the clientele you might see there isn't."

"Thanks. I'll go see what she wants." Cyclops said, closing the call.

Looking down at Haruko, Cyclops thought about who he could call to help watch her if this job turned out to be an extended job. Gently he placed a big hand to her arm to hold her.

"«Another job?»" she asked.

"«Heard my 'link buzz, huh?»"

Haruko nodded.

"«This one could be a while, so I might have to leave you with a friend for a few days.»" he told her. "«But I'll find out tonight after the meeting.»"

The weather did not exactly improve by 17.00 that evening, but it certainly did change. It slowly got colder as the day went on, but by early afternoon the rain had stopped. It made the drive through Auburn and Renton a little more pleasurable.

The address Joss had given him led him to a stretch of Renton that looked a lot like any other commercial district. The building itself had no name, almost no markings other than the required street number, and the only hint that there was something going on was the parking lot with a large collection of expensive looking cars. Even the front door was rather plain and unassuming, with one person standing outside.

Far from his first visit to such a high class establishment, Cyclops already had an appropriate ensemble to wear. But he was also no fool when it came to protection. Sure, Zoé's line of clothing did offer a measure of protection, but when you were large and looked intimidating people tended to shoot you first over the little guy. Underneath his long jacket and clothes was a form fitting suit of full body armor, and the dark blue suit itself had more to it than just the silvery yellow Norse runes that were stitched into the collar. If anything the eye patch he wore when out in public would appear to be the most low-class article of clothing, though honestly not wearing it at all would have been more unsettling to everyone.

As he walked from his van's parking space, Cyclops activated the extra broadcast program Joss had sent him. As he approached the door to Club 77, the lone person that was standing there reached for the door and opened it for him.

Nodding his thanks, Cyclops stepped inside.

Looking back, he could see a cyberware scanner built into the frame of the door. Not surprising, really. Cyclops was also far from concerned as if the scanner did pick out every bit of cyber implanted in him it would only find a few tiny bits in his head.

Security itself was not limited to just a cyberware scanner at the door, but also in WiFi inhibiting materials. Connection to the matrix was lost once the doors closed behind them. Though Cyclops was not looking at anything in the astral he was still able to feel and sense the magical. He felt the veil of an astral ward, an almost imperceptible touch like gossamer spider's webs, as he passed through.

The interior was certainly nothing like the exterior or front breezeway. Cool plasteel was replaced with warm varnished woods, rich red draperies, and soft lighting. Entertainment for the club was live music with real instruments, a jazz ensemble playing up on stage. Numerous tables with white tablecloths filled a large room, most of which had richly dressed people at them. The lights were subdued, with a fair amount of illumination coming from a handful of candles at each table.

Aside from the wait staff, almost all of them had their commlinks switched off. There was almost no AR to be seen at all, and it was clearly intentional as one waiter canted off items that were available on the menu.

As looked customary, Cyclops switched the wireless functions of his worn commlink off. The commlink inside of his head, however, remained in ghost mode.

"Can I help you?" asked a woman in a skin-tight, black cocktail dress. She looked like she was the club hostess.

"I've got a reservation with a Ms. Johnson at five." Cyclops said.

"If you'll come this way, please?" the hostess asked him.

He was led off to the side to a wood paneled corridor, far from the open club room, to what was one of several private rooms. Even here the doorway was more than large enough for someone of his size, and the other doors he saw were all the same.

Despite her diminutive size, the woman opened the door easily. It slid silently as she pushed effortlessly.

Inside were two small couches and a large chair, along with a real wooden dining table set with a white linen tablecloth and crystal glasses. Against one wall was a hearth with a real fire burning in it. Also inside were two elfin women, a blond and brunette, and two men, one of whom had distinctively obvious cybernetic eyes poking out from his skull.

The blond elf jumped at the sight of the fomori as he entered the room. She scrambled backwards over the couch she had been sitting on like she wanted to climb over it to hide behind it. Her choice of attire was a slim dress of emerald green fabric, and her partial oriental features looked familiar to Cyclops.

Everyone else looked at her as if she might have set her backside on fire or something.

"Anything to drink, sir?" the hostess asked, completely unphased by the woman's reaction.

"Hurlg, in a proper container." Cyclops said.

"Of course, sir." she said, closing the door behind him. He was starting to like her.

Looking at everyone in the room, Cyclops settled his uncovered eye on the much calmer looking brunette elf in the bright blue suit. "You must be Ms. Johnson."

"I am." the brunette said.

Calmly he walked over to the larger chair, appropriately sized for someone like him, and slowly sat down.

"You fuckin' serious?" the blond asked.

"I take it you have history?" one of the men asked. His eyes looked completely natural. Cyclops also noticed the recently lit and very fat cigar in one hand as it came to the man's lips.

"She and some of her friends thought I was one of the Spikes." Cyclops said. "Had to… educate a few of them."

"Are we going to have problems?" Ms. Johnson asked.

"I've got no hard feelings." Cyclops casually said. "Far as I know, her friends know I'm no racist bigot."

"Well, I'm sure we'd all like to know for sure, so are you?" the same man asked.

"I judge the person by their word and their deed, not by the luck of their birth." Cyclops answered.

"Well, you're certainly not what I expected." Ms. Johnson said.

"I usually am." Cyclops replied.

Now seemed as good a time as any to get another look at everyone assembled. Focusing his mind on the other side of the veil, the astral world, Cyclops saw the colors and lights of the real world vanish.

First was the blond elf, her aura bright and almost clear. He was right in recognizing her, even if she had not just tried to climb over a couch to hide behind it. It was hard to describe what he saw as fear in her aura, watching her as she slowly settled back down into her seat. Cyclops also did not need to read her aura to know she was a magician.

Next was the clean cut man. He was much calmer than the elfin woman, though his aura was in general quite cloudy. Still, Cyclops could see a black spot in the man's head with thin black lines leading out to his eyes and ears. His eyes were still natural, but something had been implanted in them, along with engineered tissues throughout his body and an alteration to his skeleton. Cyclops figured the overall cloudiness he saw was from extensive genetic alterations.

The other man, the one with the obvious cybernetic eyes, oddly enough had a much brighter aura. It was easy to tell he was actually awakened as well, though his eyes and ears had been replaced. Strangely enough his chest had undergone a replacement, a type of implant called a cyber torso encapsulated much of the man's chest.

The other elfin woman was a little more difficult to read, though her aura was also pure. No other auras of magic or spirits could be seen on Ms. Johnson, and she was not awakened.

Just as the light and colors of the real world returned, two of the wait staff were coming in with the requested drinks for everyone. The poor waitress had to work hard and carefully to bring him a troll sized stein of hurlg. Proportionally it would have been half a liter to a human, though his own likely held two liters of the potent ale.

"Don't let that knock you off your ass." commented the cleaner looking man as he accepted a stein of something for himself.

"You're what, eighty kilos soaking wet?" Cyclops asked before taking a good swig of his drink. "I'm four times your mass at least."

The other man softly, and a little nervously, chuckled.

"Right, now to business." Ms. Johnson said, "I trust your fixers mentioned that I'm looking for some traveling companions? Yes? Well, I'm actually in the business myself. I've been hired by a private antiquities collector, who recently lost an item from his collection. His only clue is this man, who has apparently been hired by a rival collector to find the item first. He's an elf who goes by the name of Samriel Lockwood. One or both of those names are likely to be false.

"We've been tracking him, but now it appears he's gone to Lagos. We need to locate him quickly and trail him to the item. Now normally, I work alone, but Lagos… well, it's not exactly a safe city for a single woman. If you're amenable, I'd like to hire you to accompany me as security, and you can also help out in my investigation."

"Why not?" the blond elf asked.

"It's a little thing called 'Equal Rights.'" the clean cut man answered, "Over there, if you're a woman you're third rate property. And, ah, worse if you're also a magician."

The blond elf scowled.

"Now as you can imagine," Ms. Johnson continued, "the trail grows colder with every hour," Ms. Johnson continued, "so I'd like to leave as soon as possible. In the morning, in fact."

"So why aren't we, you know, like, doing this on the way to the airport?" asked the man with the cybernetic eyes.

"Tomorrow morning is, unfortunately, the soonest we can leave." Ms. Johnson answered, "Now I'm willing to pay two thousand nuyen per person, per day, plus a per diem of two hundred and fifty nuyen with a guaranteed minimum of five days paid up front. I'll also cover our lodging in Lagos, plus the cost of travel to and from Nigeria. If we find the lost item, and you assist me in recovering it, I'll also split the 'finder's fee' with you – which would be fifty thousand nuyen for you to split."

"Reasonable enough to me." Cyclops said. Even if he had to pay someone to help watch Haruko for the time, at two thousand nuyen a day he expected to have more than enough to cover that expense.

"Well, twelve and a half thousand if we split it evenly," the clean cut man said, "before expenses."

"Before expenses?" the blond elf asked.

"Not accustomed to team pay?" Cyclops asked.

"It's not that, I'm just not keen on paying for someone else's shit." the blond replied.

"Well, it's not like we're going to be springing for everyone else's stuff." the clean cut man said, "Don't forget the two thousand per day we'll be getting. Unless there's something serious we'll have money to spend without dipping into our payout."

"Fine." the blond said, relenting.

"Wonderful." Ms. Johnson said, clapping her hands together once, "Since we'll be traveling together, you can call me Jane. Ms. Johnson is something I'd call my employer."

"Cyclops." Cyclops said.

"Icebreaker." the clean cut man said.

"Stringer." the other man said.

"Kogatana." the blond elf said.

"Kogatana? That anything like Katana?" Icebreaker asked.

"Means 'small knife' in Japanese." Cyclops answered. "Fitting name now, considering when we last met."

"Odd, you don't look like…" Icebreaker started to say.

"My mother's half Japanese." Kogatana said sharply. "We good?"

"Best to say yes." Cyclops said, taking another drink of hurlg. "We'll be working together, and you don't want her throwing anything at you."

"So, before we leave, there's a few things you should probably know." Jane said, standing to walk around and hand everyone a data chip, "I've put together a list of inoculations that the World Health Organization recommends for travelers to West Africa. Some of these things aren't in your normal medkit, so you may need to see a doctor before we leave. There's some additional information on Lagos on the chip, if you're not already familiar with the city."

Cyclops slotted the chip into his commlink, and after scanning it copied the data to the commlink that was implanted in his skull.

"To get us to Africa, I've arranged for a private flight from here to Cairo, and then on to Accra—the capital of Asante, and the closest real airport to Lagos. That way we don't have to deal with any airport security or other travel issues. But after that, I'm afraid we'll be traveling with a bush pilot into Lagos."

"What's that mean, exactly?" Kogatana asked.

"Means we're sneaking into the city." Icebreaker said, "We won't exactly have the local LEOs on our side if the shit hits the fan."

"Pretty much, not that there's much for local police there." Jane said, "Now I've been told there will be limited room on the plane for us on the final leg, and we're to pack light. A single carry-on-sized bag and a backpack or duffle bag each, or so I was told. I'd seriously recommend everyone here bring a medkit, too. Does anyone need any help arranging details before we go?"

"Got someone in mind for the shots?" Icebreaker asked.

"I know a street doctor called Butch that can help you out with that." Jane answered. "Tell her I sent you and she'll set you up."

"And this Samriel Lockwood guy?" Cyclops asked.

"Oh, yes, of course." Jane said, pulling out a physical photograph from a pocket and handing it to him.

The image was of a Caucasian elf with short cut gray hair and solid silver eyes. He scanned it into a digital copy and uploaded the image file into his facial recognition software. Then he passed the photo on to Icebreaker.

"So, are we gonna know what this item is?" Kogatana asked.

"It looks something like a cross between an armillary sphere and a navigational sextant. In the center is a sphere, and the sphere is mounted on staff, which is intricately carved with spiraling designs and glyphs." Jane answered. "I'm sorry, but I don't have a pic of it. But rest assured I'll know it when I see it."

"Our bigger focus is Samriel, right?" Cyclops asked.

"Aside from protecting me, yes." Jane answered.

"Then right now I guess we just need to know where Butch is, and when and where to meet for the flight tomorrow." Icebreaker said.


	2. Chapter 2

Are Your Immunizations Up To Date? (posted 2014/11/17)

Part of him felt bad for having Haruko stay with a friend for however long the job took. At least he knew his friend, who called herself Tinkerbell, would take good care of the Japanese girl while he was gone. She had to if she wanted to live up to what she had promised him that day when Haruko and the other girls were discovered.

The Gulfstream Luxe V aircraft Jane had chartered was quite nicely furnished. It was a slightly larger model, one made to fit trolls so they would not have to duck while inside the cabin.

And nice it was, as everyone had to get up and walk about every so often during the flight, if not to go to the toilet to at least stretch their legs a little. There had been a brief stop in D.C. to top off the fuel tanks, and now they were well over the Atlantic Ocean on their way to Cairo, Egypt.

Most everyone had done a little chatting on the flight so far, mostly Jane trying to get to know everyone a little better. Of the other three, Cyclops only knew Kogatana, and though they had been at odds in the past he knew the elfin woman was quite capable with a variety of spells at her disposal. If there was anything of a weakness he knew of her, it was that she was easily flattered and insulted at the same time.

Icebreaker was turning out to be quite the smooth talker, though one misspoken word had ended up teaching him just how hard Kogatana could kick.

Of the three, Stringer had proven to be the most annoying to Cyclops. The wiry human had started of talking near incessantly about various gunfights he had been in, and a few others that Icebreaker had pointed out were actually scenes in some action trids. Cyclops did not know if it was a blessing or a curse when Stringer had slotted a chip shortly after they left D.C. that afternoon.

Cyclops had largely said nothing, preferring to listen as the others spoke while half reading a report in an ARO. He changed his focus from the ARO to Jane as she came over to sit in the chair opposite of him.

"An interesting read?" she asked.

"It's a psychological review of the toxic shaman by Karen Remick." Cyclops said, "She's a sophomore at Montana Tech." Moving the ARO aside he asked, "So, what questions do you have for me?"

"Did you read that data file I gave you at the meeting?" Jane asked.

"Once. I'll probably skim over it again before we get there."

"There's something different about you." Jane said, "I can't quite put my finger on it, and it's not just how smart you seem. I'd just like to get to know you a little better, maybe understand what I'm feeling."

"I know this isn't your first time dealing with shadowrunners." Cyclops said, "So I'm sure you'll understand when none of us are forthcoming with our little secrets."

"Of course."

Cyclops lifted his eye patch away, part of his vision spinning away crazily as he did.

"Oh my." Jane said softly. Her reaction was much like everyone else's when he showed them what was underneath the patch. Sure, the vertical scar on his face might have been a clue, but the sickly discoloration of his left eye was all the reason to wear an eye patch.

Carefully he set the eye patch back into place, his vision returning to normal. What very few people knew was that despite how awful his left eye looked he could actually still see out of it normally. The eye patch itself concealed a small sensor package that contained two minidrone sensor cameras that were tricked out with various features, while the bands that held it all in place concealed a skinlink and set of trodes. The commlink implanted in his head was also able to use his body's bioelectric field to directly relay what the cameras saw to implants in his eyes.

"It was over a year ago," Cyclops said, "a grenade exploded almost in my face. Still, it almost killed me. Shrapnel did this." He ran a finger down along his scar. "Almost died that time, and I probably did, or should have died."

"Sounds like something happened. Maybe you awakened then?" Jane reasoned.

"Close." Cyclops said, "I was already awakened. Things changed afterwards."

After a short and uncomfortable silence, Jane said, "Sounds like it was quite the soul wrenching experience."

Cyclops silently nodded.

"What? That job you did last week?" Icebreaker asked as he walked over to join them.

"Job?" Jane asked.

"Yeah. Heard about the Yakuza losing a shipment of geisha girls last week. 'Bout the same time, I gathered, that Cyclops suddenly got a cute Japanese roommate." Icebreaker shrugged, "Of course, I seriously doubt that the girls would be just geisha…"

Jane sighed. It looked like this might be a touchy subject for her.

"…and from what I heard you got yourself a personal fuck toy out of it." Icebreaker said with a grin.

Jane did not look pleased, whether it was Icebreaker's remark or the thought that Cyclops would do such a thing, he could not tell.

Cyclops's gaze narrowed as he glared at Icebreaker. Just that alone seemed to scream to Icebreaker that he had really fucked up with that comment.

"Even hint that I would do something like that to a child and I won't just kick you like Kogatana did." Cyclops growled, "I'll see how well your face fits in my hand," lifting up his right hand, palm up and fingers relaxed, "just before I push you out through a window, right here, right now. Ask Kogatana, and she'll tell you I can do it."

Icebreaker's gaze jumped from Cyclops's uncovered eye down to his hand and back.

"Don't fuck with him! He'll do it!" Kogatana called out from her seat.

"Okay! Okay! I take it back! I'm sorry!" Icebreaker said, pushing himself back in his seat with his hands upraised in surrender. "Just that I was told you were living with a young Japanese girl and…"

"She helps tend my home, nothing else." Cyclops told them.

"This the same girl you mentioned having stay with a friend earlier?" Jane asked.

"Yes."

"And you trust him?" Icebreaker asked.

"I trust _she_ will do right by the girl." Cyclops said, "My friend was in that life, but she got lucky and got out of it. It's not something she wants forced on anyone."

"You could've taken advantage of the girl, couldn't you?" Jane asked.

"Easily." Cyclops answered. He hoped that was all he had to say as he did not want to dive in to just how messed up Haruko seemed to be after she was rescued. Sometimes it seemed to be a boon that she even wore anything in his small home.

Jane seemed a little more relaxed.

"She's lucky, and I don't know if she realizes just how lucky she is." Cyclops said softly. "I'd rather not say any more."

* * *

><p>It was relatively the next morning when their flight touched down on a simple runway in Accra. Almost twenty hours ago they had departed SeaTac, where it was cold, dark, and rainy. Morning in Accra was quite different, and it was not just the eight hour time difference.<p>

"What time is it?" asked Kogatana as she stretched her arms up.

"Do you want home time or local?" Cyclops asked.

"How 'bout both?" Icebreaker asked with a groan.

"Twenty-three thirty-seven last night back home, and seven thirty-seven tomorrow morning here." Cyclops said as he stood up. He had to be careful as he stretched his arms out, not wanting to knock anyone over.

Unlike the others, Cyclops was not one bit tired even though he had been awake since the early morning back in Seattle. There was no special trick to it at all, simply a small bioware implant within his brain that modified the hypothalamus, allowing him to go longer on less sleep than normal. Three hours was about all he needed per night, and he would hopefully get that once they were settled in Lagos for the evening.

The outside air was relatively clean and clear compared to Seattle, and substantially hotter.

The Accra airport was also substantially simpler than SeaTac, with only a few terminal buildings which were all a single story tall. Though quite quaint compared to the Seattle sprawl, the Accra airport looked like it was well maintained.

After collecting what luggage they had the five of them went into the terminal. Four heavily armed guards stood watch while another from airport security checked over their digital travel documents. Cyclops was starting to wonder if they were going to get through at all when they were suddenly given the okay to proceed into the Intra-Continental Waiting Area.

Their next gate was easy enough to find, with a sign over it that read "LAGOS" nailed over the doorway. Next to it was a desk that looked like had been taken from an office, and a very bored looking guard.

"Going to Lagos?" he asked in English.

Jane nodded.

"There's a travel tax for each of you."

Jane sighed. Turning to them she said, "I'll take care of this. Go ahead and see if you can find our pilot. Goes by the name Innocent Dobiri. He's supposed to be waiting for us here. Tell him Black Mamba vouched for us."

"You sure you'll be okay?" Cyclops asked.

"Quite. Just go and find our pilot."

Icebreaker led the way as they walked on through, and outside again onto a private runway. Parked there was what looked like a small airplane. At least it looked like an airplane. It had a pair of wings, each with what was maybe an engine, a rudder, and a long and slender body.

Leaning against the airplane, next to an open door, was a rail thin African man. His head was nearly clean shaven and glistened with just a hint of sweat. In his mouth was the stub of a still smoldering cigarette.

"Is that it?" Icebreaker asked as they walked up to it.

"Who are you?" the African man asked, pushing himself away from the aircraft. Motion trackers in Cyclops's eye patch picked up flecks of rust that had just recently broken free.

"Well, if you're Innocent Dobiri then we're your fare." Icebreaker said, dropping his duffel bag to free a hand to shake. When the other man did not reciprocate, Icebreaker added, "Yeah, well, ah, Black Mamba's vouching for us."

They were looked over very carefully, and while he did that Cyclops took a moment to read his aura. The man was in relatively good health despite his smoking habit, with lines of black running the length of his spine.

"Good, you pack light." the man said as the astral realm slipped from Cyclops's senses. "Big one gets in first."

"So you are Innocent Dobiri?" Icebreaker asked.

"Yes."

"And you expect us to ride in that… rust bucket?" Stringer asked.

"Don't worry. I'm best pilot in Lagos. Rust is camouflage."

"You're seriously serious?" Icebreaker asked.

"You see any other aircraft out here for us?" Cyclops asked as he walked over to the aircraft. There were a collection of boxes stacked up to be a makeshift staircase to climb inside, and the first crate creaked as Cyclops put his foot down on it.

"I can't believe we're doing this." Kogatana muttered as she followed him.

"If you wanna hike to Lagos, be my guest." Cyclops said as he climbed into the aircraft.

The aircraft was much smaller than the Gulfstream, so much so that Cyclops had to crouch while he was inside. There also were no seats, save the one for the pilot and copilot. To try and keep the weight as even as possible he selected a spot in the middle and sat down on it.

"You sure you wanna sit there?" Kogatana asked as she tossed her one piece of luggage onto a crate that was a little further back.

"You want this aircraft to tip over when we take off?" Cyclops asked back. He had no problems talking about how heavy he was, tipping the scales at a hefty two hundred and seventy-five kilograms of near solid muscle.

"Yeah, good point."

"Talk about going from first class to no class, eh?" Icebreaker asked as he climbed in next. He found himself a spot and did his best to get comfortable.

"I don't give a shit what you think!" Jane yelled from outside the aircraft, "Either you get your ass on board or you can kiss this job goodbye!"

Stringer looked quite upset as he climbed up through the door, muttering something that Cyclops could not quite hear. He tossed his two packs next to Icebreaker and turned towards the cockpit.

"Pick a crate and sit down." Cyclops ordered.

"Who the hell are you to tell me where to sit?" Stringer asked.

"Innocent gets his seat." Cyclops said sternly, "And if he doesn't have a copilot Jane gets the other."

"And why should she get a comfy seat?" Stringer asked.

"Because she's the client," Cyclops said, "and if the client's upset then the job's going to be hell. If the job's going to be hell, then I will make sure your life is a living hell the whole time."

Stringer looked to the others. Kogatana had no sympathy to offer at all.

"Hey, he's right." Icebreaker said with a shrug. "Done a few jobs like this, babysitting a client, and let me tell you…"

"Can it wait?" Jane asked as she stepped up through the door.

Scowling, Stringer took a seat on a crate next to Icebreaker.

Jane dropped her own backpack next to Kogatana's stuff, and then dropped herself down next to the elfin woman.

"Uh, you sure you don't want a more comfortable seat?" Icebreaker asked.

Innocent had climbed in and was now securing the door as Jane said, "I'm not some soft corp brat, you know. I can take it."

Engines sputtered loudly, propellers whirring horrendously, and the whole aircraft seemed to vibrate as it came alive. Cyclops wondered what the odds were that it could shake itself apart.

Among some of the hardware implanted in his skull, one little device was an orientation system. Among its features was a GPS, and Cyclops switched it on to start tracking his location.

"Hey, um, just how old's this thing anyway?" Stringer asked as the aircraft taxied to a runway.

"You heard the term 'fly-by-wire,' right?" Icebreaker asked.

"Yeah, but I didn't think this one's new enough for that." Stringer said.

"It is." Icebreaker said, nearly yelling as the engines roar, the aircraft lurching forward as it sped down the runway. "See, it's not really wires, but steel cables that connect the control stick to the wings so he can control this tin can!"

Cyclops chuckled as Stringer went a shade pale as the aircraft took flight.

About ten minutes into the flight Kogatana turned to look out one of the few windows not blocked off by crates of cargo.

"Hey, how come we're flying inland?" she asked.

"You can't do everything in a straight line." Icebreaker said, "Going out over the ocean would draw too much attention."

"Attention? From who?"

Cyclops chuckled. "Spent all your life in the sprawl?" he asked.

"So?" Kogatana asked back.

"Bush pilots and… other sorts take different flight paths." Icebreaker said, "You think that smuggler that just flew in flew straight from point A to point B? No, they fly round-a-bout and below the radar to avoid detection."

"But things're so primitive here." Stringer said, "I mean, I've got no matrix signal at all."

"And one radar guided surface-to-air missile up your ass will prove it ain't all that 'low tech' around here." Cyclops said. "Enjoy the view, Koga, it's a lot prettier than the ocean."

Not that he knew from personal experience of the region. The coast and wilds of North America had shown him the vastness of a nearly flat ocean (and you can see the curvature of the Earth when you are high enough) compared to the green wilderness of Rocky Mountains in summer, and he very much preferred the mountains and valleys of wild woodland. Not that the pristine blue of the ocean was not beautiful in its own way.

Kogatana did spend much of her time looking out the window. The look on her face told Cyclops that she had indeed spent much of her time in the Seattle sprawl, and with her connection to the Ancients likely too much time in the ash covered Puyallup Barrens as well.

After a somewhat bumpy flight, and an equally bumpy landing, the aircraft taxied to its destination at what qualified as an airport in Lagos. Of everyone, Cyclops was the last to deplane.

His first breath of fresh air outside of the aircraft was far from as refreshing as Cyclops had hoped. Sure it lacked the pollutants that were ever present in Seattle, but there was a different kind of stench that lay hidden in the air.

The airport itself, Murtala Muhammed International according to what data he had, looked like it had seen better days. Its two runways, both running straight north to south, looked like they were in need of some repair, but nothing compared to the buildings themselves. The buildings may have once been a sprawling facility, complete with four walls and a roof, but now looked like they would be the last choice of the homeless to squat in.

"This place reeks." commented Kogatana as she slipped her backpack over her shoulders.

"Yeah, but nothing compared to the Tacoma Aroma." Icebreaker said, slinging his own pack on. "Here it's more automobile exhaust, garbage, and shit."

"Shit?" Kogatana asked.

"Yeah, shit." Icebreaker said, "For many there's no plumbing, so when they take a shit they go squat in the river."

"That's disgusting!"

"That's life." Cyclops said.

"C'mon, we need to get going." Jane told them.

As they walked Cyclops noted that most all of the buildings would have been considered condemned if they were in Seattle. Some had large sections of wall missing, which did facilitate the movement of people in and out of them, and did give Cyclops a good view inside. Many merchants and vendors could be seen, some with tarps over their stalls to help protect their merchandise from the holes or complete lack of roofing above them.

But there was an odd kind of natural beauty as well, Cyclops noted as they walked into the shade of one of the buildings. Some places inside was a colorful mosaic of red, black, and green molds, some tinted with a reddish dust that was rather thick in some places on the floor.

"I think we got trouble." Stringer said as he and the others stopped.

Looking ahead Cyclops saw what Stringer was talking about. Looking over the collection of ork men that were approaching them, their grins and the way they carried themselves at first screamed 'gangers' to Cyclops. Their armored fatigues, dark sunglasses, and scarred faces soon changed that to well funded gangers.

"Airport security." Jane said softly, "Looking for a bribe."

There were ten in all, and they openly carried AK-97s in their hands. Many had a second sickle magazine taped to the one loaded into the assault rifle so all one had to do was pull out the empty magazine, flip it around, and reload the fresh one without having to fumble to find another.

"You new?" one of them asked in accented English.

Cyclops expected Jane to speak up, but then noticed none of them were even looking at her. The one that spoke, in fact, was looking right at Icebreaker.

"Well, yeah, sort of." Icebreaker said, not missing a beat.

"There's an arrival tax." the speaker said, "You pay, or you cannot enter."

"Arrival tax?" Kogatana asked incredulously.

One of the others spat on the ground.

"Well, sure, I guess." Icebreaker said, "Just how much is this arrival tax?"

Cyclops gently placed a hand on Kogatana's shoulder, giving his head a gentle shake when she looked up at him. Instead the two shuffled around so he now stood just behind Icebreaker at his left.

"One hundred nuyen each." the speaker said.

"Really? That much?" Icebreaker asked.

One hundred nuyen was not really all that much compared to what Cyclops had available. Back in Seattle he might even be willing to pay that much. Lagos was a feral city that ran on the flow of its currency, and Cyclops had the impression that the less they had to spend the better.

Then he remembered the data file Jane had given all of them last Friday, where an annotation had been added listing some of the common values for goods and services, and bribes.

And apparently so did Icebreaker.

"Yes." the speaker said. He looked like he was expecting the five of them to simply pay up.

"Well, you see we're traveling on a budget. We're not the richest of _oyibos_, and one hundred's just a bit much for us."

The speaker grunted. "All _oyibos_ are wealthy." he said.

"Then all Lagosians are thieves." Cyclops replied, his voice even.

One of the orks was quite well provoked, and though Cyclops saw the assault rifle butt coming for his stomach he simply readied himself for the blow. When the ork did not step back quickly, he slowly turned his head to look down at the sweating, black skinned ork. He shook his head just a little in a "don't do that again" way.

"Awe, now you've gone and upset my large friend here." Icebreaker sweetly said as the ork slowly took three steps away from Cyclops. "Now I really doubt you want to fight us, so let's try to talk deal, okay?"

It might have looked like an unconscious twitch, but Cyclops ran his thumb along the inside of the middle of his left hand, feeling the three custom made rings he wore. To the uninformed it looked like a single thick band of steel with strange and angular writing in three separate bands. They really were three individual foci with various Nordic runes written around them, the rings made to join together as a single piece when worn. Though he did not need to touch them with his thumb to activate them, he did so anyway. It was more of a reminder to him that they were there.

But the three were not all that he had. Underneath his shirt, secured by a platinum chain and wire mesh, was a fair sized quartz crystal shard that was seventy-seven millimeters long from pointed tip to pointed tip, and had eleven facets around the diameter. This too was a focus, and with a thought it activated.

"Deal? No, no deal." the speaker said.

"How 'bout we don't pay you anything?" suggested Stringer.

The speaker said something, which aggravated the other orks around him.

Cyclops turned to glare at Stringer.

Thinking he had the advantage, the ork that had struck Cyclops tried again, this time bringing the butt of his AK-97 higher to try and hit the fomori on the chin on his blind side.

But Cyclops saw it coming thanks to the sensors in his eye patch. Lightning quick he had a big hand up to catch the assault rifle's butt with a loud crack. His hand stung, but his fingers had more than enough strength to hold the weapon with an iron grip. Slowly Cyclops turned his head back, and sighed.

"Now c'mon, let's be reasonable." Icebreaker said. "We really don't wanna fight you, and I really doubt you want to have to visit a _dibias_ to get yourselves fixed up."

With a twist of his hand Cyclops reefed the AK-97 free from the ork's hands. Taking the assault rifle in both hands, one hand firmly holding the stock, he started to bend it. Those closest to him could hear the creaking of the wooden stock as it started to break. Worse still it did not look like Cyclops was really straining himself to do this.

"Oh, and I guess I shouldn't forget how much you'll have to spend on new guns, too." Icebreaker casually added.

Cyclops eased up on the AK-97, but still held onto it with both hands.

"So what do you say, five nuyen?" Icebreaker asked.

The spokesman ork's eyes went wide, the sclera a striking contrast to his very dark skin.

"Fifty!" the ork said, already cutting their first asking price in half.

Icebreaker shook his head. "Ten."

"Thirty-five."

"Fifteen."

The ork groaned. "Twenty."

"Twenty." agreed Icebreaker.

Cyclops handed the AK-97 back to its owner, stock first, who accepted it a little nervously.

Payment was simple enough, as the orks all had active commlinks. Cyclops, however, made sure that his share of twenty nuyen went to the spokesman.

"Right, everything good?" Icebreaker asked.

The ork spokesman reluctantly nodded.

One by one Cyclops deactivated his foci.

"Right then, we'll, ah, just be on our way then."

After several paces had separated them from the airport security, Stringer asked, "So why pay those assholes anything?"

"Money runs this place." Icebreaker said.

"Money also runs Seattle." Stringer retorted.

"No, seriously, money runs this place." Icebreaker said again, "Everyone's got their hand out for their share for whatever they do. It's way different here."

"Like how?" asked Kogatana.

"You'll learn soon enough." interrupted Jane. "Now follow me. It's time to get your per diem."


End file.
